Harsh Truths
by CaroH
Summary: A short tag to episode 2.2. Athos has to talk some sense into Aramis.


**Harsh Truths**

It had been a fiasco with a less than happy ending. Athos abandoned the idea of pouring his wine into a glass and drank straight from the bottle. Some days could only be handled with complete inebriation. It had started with their inability to dissuade the King from his mad idea to dress as a commoner and experience life outside the Palace. True, Louis had enjoyed himself for a while until a brawl became dangerous and he'd made the mistake of sending the King and d'Artagnan away for the sake of safety. He couldn't have known that the inn-keeper had an arrangement with criminals to abduct unsuspecting men from the street, but he should have been more careful. Everything that had followed had been his fault.

He would never forget the look of fear and outrage on Treville's face when they'd reported the news. It was fortunate that they'd found the King in time to return him to the palace for the Dauphin's christening but it hadn't ended there. He drained the last dregs from the wine and turned his attention to finding another bottle. He wouldn't fault d'Artagnan for refusing to execute the man the King had previously pardoned. It was the honourable thing to do. Rochefort, of course, had no such qualms and had taken the opportunity to ingratiate himself further with the King. He gave up his search when he realised his store of alcohol was empty.

The day had ended with the Musketeers being blamed for everything, a common occurrence since Treville had refused to become one of the King's advisors. Athos understood the reason although he would have preferred that Treville had made a different decision. It had allowed that snake, Rochefort, to slither into the King's good graces and Athos had no doubt that he was spreading poison about the Musketeers to a receptive audience.

Then, there was the return of Milady. Athos buckled on his sword belt intent upon finding some more wine. He'd warned her and she had chosen to return. Worse, she now had the King's pardon for all her past crimes. He had no doubt the King would be horrified if he ever found out what kind of person she was but it wasn't his place to say anything. Given the current climate he would probably be disbelieved anyway. He put on his hat and gloves and headed out into the yard. It was empty except for Aramis who was sitting at the table with a bottle of wine and two glasses in front of him.

Aramis smiled broadly and gestured him over. "I thought you'd appear sooner rather than later." He poured wine into the empty glass and pushed it toward Athos.

"You look happy."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh I don't know. Perhaps because you have been brooding ever since the Dauphin was born." He drained his glass and poured more wine. It didn't make him feel any better to see his friend so obviously unaffected by the events of the past two days.

"Yes. I'm sorry about that."

"So what's changed?" He'd seen that look of rapture on Aramis' face before but only after Mass. It worried him and made his stomach contract painfully.

"I held him. It was just for a moment but he stopped crying and looked at me."

The words validated his fears. "What were you doing in the Queen's quarters? I swear you have a death wish," he hissed. He looked around to ensure no-one else was listening. It had been bad enough watching Aramis acting like a love sick puppy after his night with the Queen. This was exponentially worse. His friend was obsessed with the child.

"I went to see Marguerite," Aramis said defensively. "I have started seeing her and it is hard to find a time when we aren't both on duty."

"You're using her Aramis," Athos said angrily. "It isn't fair to her and what if she works it out? You know what will happen if anyone suspects. They'll hang you and what then becomes of the Queen? She could be cast aside and the child with her."

"The King would never dare to harm her. Her brother is the King of Spain. There would be war."

"He could send her to a convent and have the baby killed. Is that what you want?" he asked harshly.

"You don't understand." Aramis no longer looked happy. Now he was begging for an understanding that Athos could never offer.

"No I don't but I can see things more clearly than you. What if Rochefort uses what you did to bring down the whole regiment? The King is already turning against us."

"It won't come to that."

"You're right. It won't because you are going to stay away from the Queen and the Dauphin."

"I can't," Aramis said miserably. He took a mouthful of wine, his dark eyes begging Athos to see the truth.

"Think about what you're doing. The boy can never be your son. If you want to see him grow you have to back off."

"It is a constant torment, Athos. To be so close yet never being part of his life."

"You are a King's Musketeer. You will always be part of his life because you are sworn to protect him."

"Perhaps I should resign my commission. Leave Paris."

"You would be no happier if you did that and neither would we. Think about Porthos and d'Artagnan. How would they feel if you were to leave? You are a soldier, Aramis and our brother. We cannot let you go."

"You are right, my friend, but how do I live like this? Holding my son was the most wonderful moment of my life. I love him and I am a constant source of danger to him."

"That's what you need to remember. He is the Dauphin of France, son of King Louis. To know that he is loved and protected will have to be enough."

"Will you help me?"

"In any way I can."

Aramis stared into his glass, his anguish plain for anyone to see. Then, he seemed to come to a decision. He raised his glass and looked steadily at Athos. "To the Dauphin."

"To the Dauphin." Athos drank. He felt badly for ruining Aramis' buoyant mood but it was for the greater good. The mantle of responsibility settled across his shoulders once more. He would do everything in his power to keep his brother safe. Not for the first time he wished that the night in the convent had never happened. Life had been so much simpler when they only had Richelieu to worry about.

The End.


End file.
